


Heat II

by DefyingNormalcy



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:11:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10732944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefyingNormalcy/pseuds/DefyingNormalcy
Summary: Sequel to Heat. Much to Patricia’s delight, Ms. Ferguson returns to the spa for some pampering.





	Heat II

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JoansGlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/gifts).



> With many thanks to Ifitbelove for her assistance.
> 
> For the wonderful JoansGlove. <3

Hot beads of sweat trickled from my neck to slide off of my rounded jaw and chin as I bent my head in concentration; my hands, clad in yellow rubber gloves furiously scrubbed the already sparkling tile. My fingers ached and protested as I put my whole weight behind my thrusts against the tile, as I pushed as hard as I could into the microfiber cloth as it dragged across the shiny surface. My knees wobbled and ached in protest, but I ignored the burning pain and instead refocused my attention on the task at hand.

  

It had been five weeks since Ms. Ferguson’s visit. Five long, agonizing, aching weeks since I’d felt her teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of my neck, since I’d felt her long fingers playing with my needy cunt, since I’d felt her hot, furred lower lips rubbing against my ass and the weight of her body collapsing on top of me. It had been a long, boring five weeks, but they were about to come to an end with Ms. Ferguson’s second scheduled appointment this evening.

 

I’d closed the spa twenty minutes early, and had even refused (politely, of course) a client who’d wanted to come in for a quick, unscheduled visit. I’d sent the rest of the staff home, citing the need to do an inventory, then I’d gleefully unloaded the contents of the backseat of my car. There was a neat pile of Ms. Ferguson’s preferred cleaning supplies including brushes and gloves that she’d sworn by during her last visit located next to one of the benches. When she called earlier in the week to confirm her appointment (at which point I had absolutely ruined my pair of knickers just from _hearing_ her) she’d requested all of these things with the intention of cleaning the spa herself, however I wanted to surprise her, and rather selfishly, I’d wanted to ensure that I had as much time with her as possible.

 

Hastily I rubbed my sweaty face into the crook of my arm and let out an exhausted huff as I sat back on my thighs. The floor was so spotless that I could practically see my reflection! I’d given myself two hours to clean the whole place, and checking the clock on the wall, I realized I still had some time to quickly shower off in one of the stalls before she arrived.

 

I was quick with dispensing my uniform and stepping under the steady stream, I scrubbed every inch of my body with the same fierceness as I had scrubbed the floors, walls, and hot tub. My fair skin glowed bright pink from both the heat of the water and the intensity of my scrubbing, normally I would feel quite self conscious about my skin’s propensity to turn such a vivid shade of pink, but right now excitement and arousal was swirling so chaotically in my gut that I hardly had the space for any shred of embarrassment. Finally satisfied with the level of cleanliness that I was currently exuding, I rinsed the soap and shampoo from my body and hair. I reached up and was just about to turn the tap off when a large, pale hand intercepted mine and slapped it against the cool, wet tile.

 

“You’ve been a  busy girl,” the low, sexy voice of my highly anticipated companion danced across my neck. I felt heavy, full, and wonderfully bare breasts press against my shoulder blades and wide, sturdy hips against my lower back.

 

I nearly came just at the unexpected contact. “M-Ms. Ferguson,” I gasped, “You’re early.” My heart hammered delightfully against my chest as I realized that I’d get an extra twenty minutes with her this evening; I vowed to cherish every extra second that I was permitted to worship this incredible creature.

 

The raven-haired older woman sunk her sharp, white teeth into my neck and I let out a responding cry.

 

“I’ve been watching you for some time now,” she muttered against the deliciously tortured flesh, “You look divine on your knees.”

 

My already sticky cunt flooded with arousal. “You were watching me clean?” I half-questioned, half-moaned. The realization that Ms. Ferguson had been watching me scrub, wipe, mop, and disinfect every inch of this area of the spa made me incredibly wet, perhaps I was beginning to develop cleaning kink? I’d of course read about women developing all sorts of kinks and desires as they aged nearer to their sexual peak.

 

“I was,” she confirmed as she trailed her nips all the way up my neck and began to attack my hyper-sensitive earlobe. “You cleaned everything exactly to my specifications,” she said and I felt an overwhelming sense of pride balloon up inside of my chest, “I’m very impressed with your work ethic, Patricia.” Her teeth released my earlobe and her tongue began to swirl around the inside of my ear with such precision and speed that my knees wobbled and my brain short circuited. “I didn’t even have to ask you,” she whispered, “you did it because you knew that it would please me, didn’t you?”

 

“I hoped that it might,” I gasped. I could feel my juices coating the inside of my full thighs. “Did it?” I dared to ask.

 

Large hands gripped my hips and spun me around, slamming my back against the tile. Hot water collided with my full breasts and and stomach and trickled down my trembling thighs. A moan escaped my parted mouth as I took in the welcome sight of a fully nude, clearly aroused Ms. Ferguson. Her dark hair was damp from the showerhead and clung to her elegant jaw and neck, her full red lips wore an amused grin and her dark eyes were glinting.

 

“It did,” she purred. She guided one of my hands to her hip and then cocked a perfectly shaped brow. “Why don’t you investigate just how _pleasing_ your actions were to me?”

 

My fingers were swollen and ached still from my furious scrubbing, however I certainly wasn’t going to allow that to stop me from exploring the silken, slippery cunt of the phenomenal woman before me. My fingers were thorough and slow in their exploration, I wanted to commit _everything_ to my memory; the way she felt, the way she smelled, the way her hips twitched and her stomach quivered and her nipples tightened when I circled her protruding clit. Her full lips widened in their grin and she threw her head back with an indulgent sigh. Feeling daring, I angled two fingers towards her entrance and began to play in the pool of wetness that I found there.

 

“No,” she hissed. My hand was slapped away and her hand quickly clenched around my throat. “Not like this,” she said. She reached for the faucet and turned the water off, causing goosebumps to break out across our flesh. “Get in the tub,” she instructed, and I knew better than to argue.

 

I slipped and tripped my way over to the hot tub, sat eagerly on one of the benches in the water, and drank in the sight of her walking slowly and carefully over to me. She looked like a goddess risen from sacred waters with her ebony and silver hair flowing in wet waves down her porcelain shoulders. She was utterly striking.

 

I licked my lips greedily as she perched herself on the edge of the tub, just to the left of the stairs. “Would you like to join me?” I croaked. I hoped that she would. I’d spent forty minutes just on the tub alone, scrubbing it with bleach until my eyes stung and the fine hairs on the inside of my nostrils burnt.

 

“On your knees,” she breathed.

 

I scrambled into position. The water was shallow enough that even while on my knees, my neck and head remained above water.

 

Slowly, agonizingly, she parted her legs and my jaw fell open at the sight of the treasure between those gloriously long limbs of hers. Dark, thick hair lined red, dripping lips and a hardening clit; she smelled as sweet as honey and I prayed that she’d let me find out if she tasted just as good. I looked up at her with pleading eyes and lips parted to accommodate my ragged breathing. “P-please Ms. Ferguson?” I whimpered, “Please, let me taste you?” I didn’t care how pathetic I sounded, begging for a woman, who was still essentially a stranger to me, to allow me to tongue fuck her in the middle of my workplace.

 

She swung her legs over my shoulders and used her impressive strength to drag me across the floor of the tub. Faintly, I felt the burning pain of my already-worn knees being scraped against the smooth surface, but found it impossible to pay attention to anything other than the hot, wet cunt waiting for me. Her smooth heels dug into my shoulder blades and propelled my face forward until I was inhaling her most intimate scent. My hands flailed but quickly settled on her hips, her glorious, sensual hips, and I let out a joyful cry against her thick curls.

 

She angled her hips upwards and squeezed her calves, burying me even deeper in the heaven between her thighs. “You are not to move until I’ve had enough of you,” she instructed as she twisted her hips to rub her engorged clit against my chin.

 

As if I would ever _willingly_ move from the delectable flesh beneath my lips.

 

My tongue took its time mapping out her full, swollen lips, spreading her abundant juices everywhere before I settled on the jewel at the apex of her cunt. Unsure of what she liked, I started out gently, circling the hood of the pulsing organ and tickling its underside, but her heels dug into me even harder (I dared to hope that they might leave bruises) and so I latched onto the sensitive bud and sucked it hungrily. Her hands flew from the edge of the tub and her nails began to rake up and down my forearms, leaving angry red trails in their wake. Her back reclined against the pristine tile then arched, causing her hips to grind against me.

 

My jaw protested, clicking and aching as I worked her harder, My lungs were sure to collapse from the lack of proper ventilation, and my knees had gone completely numb, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be right now than worshiping at the altar of Ms. Ferguson’s sex.

 

“I-inside,” she grunted and she squeezed harder, like a predator immobilizing their prey, and I felt my shoulder twinge at the unnatural angle at which it was being manipulated. Reluctantly, I let go of her now completely erect clit, to sink my tongue into her clenching cunt. Her juices bathed my tongue and chin and she began to rock back and forth against my small muscle, her breathing had changed and was becoming more erratic, laboured. With joy, I realized that she was close to orgasm and so I redoubled my efforts to work my tongue inside of her hot channel.

 

One of her hands flew off of its spot on my forearm and two long fingers began to rub her clit wildly as she ground her cunt into my face, slapping her wet flesh against my rosey cheeks and chin and I felt a resounding throb deep in my own cunt. There was absolutely nothing sexier than watching a woman both receive and give herself pleasure. Part of me wished that she would come, because I so desperately wanted to feel her clenching around my flesh, and the other part wished that she wouldn’t, because I was not yet ready to part from her.

 

“You’ve been hoping for this, haven’t you?” she panted above me.

 

I responded by humming enthusiastically and nodding my head as I rammed my tongue deeper and deeper into her.

 

“How many times have you used this tub since I was last here? How many times have you let your clever fingers wander down to that pretty little cunt of yours while you played out this fantasy in your mind, hmmm?”

 

My hands squeezed and kneaded her soft hips and my hips began to grind up against an imaginary body in the water. I was so wet, so very, very wet that I could swear that the water around me was starting to feel deeper. I had indeed made use (only a few times, and of course only ever after hours) of this hot tub since her first visit, each time remembering how divine it had felt to be fucked and used by her, each time coming in an embarrassingly short amount of time before scampering out of the tub and running to the shower to clean up.

 

Ms. Ferguson chuckled and her perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the bright lights. “Of course you have. You can’t help yourself, can you?” Her fingers worked her clit still, and she let out a long, loud moan. “Make me come,” she barked, “Do it, now.”

 

Keeping a firm grasp on her hips, I began to slam my face against her, pulling my tongue out of her and then fucking her with it again, hard. The skin on my knees actually began to tear and I could feel the raw flesh rubbing and burning against the bottom of the tub; I didn’t care. All that mattered was her laboured breathing, the rise and stiffening of her incredible hips, the way that the back of her knees began to sweat and slip against either side of my neck, the gush of delicious wetness that flooded my mouth and the low, sexy grunt that fell from her lips as her whole body convulsed and spasmed around our joint flesh. I continued fucking her until she untangled one leg from my shoulder and kicked me backwards, separating me from her now sore and spasming sex. My jaw was numb and there was not one muscle in my body that was not screaming in agony, but seconds after untangling our bodies, she lept in the water and pushed me up against the side of the tub with one hand, while the other reached down between my legs to rub my neglected clit.

 

“How many times, hmm? How many times have you fucked yourself here, thinking of me?” she wheezed against my throat.

 

Tears ran down my face and my chin and cheeks were still covered in her come. My allegedly waterproof mascara was clumped and congealed in my laugh lines around my eyes and my hair was a tangled, sweaty mess yet I had never felt more desireable, more free.

 

“E-eight ti-imes,” I gasped as four of her thick fingers sunk into me. “Oh _fuck,_ Ms. Ferguson!” I sobbed and arched my back until my head smacked the tile outside the tub; I barely felt the pain as I impaled myself on her thick, talented fingers again and again.

 

“Such a delicious girl,” Ms. Ferguson cooed as she sucked and bit all along my neck, “I want you to come for me, now,” she demanded.

 

I had no choice but to obey her, as if I ever wanted to _disobey_ her! My cunt spasmed around her fingers, and I shouted out my pleasure as her tongue and teeth returned to my ear, creating a symphony of pleasure and calculated pain that crescendoed into a euphoria that swept through my limbs leaving me breathless and clinging to her to remain somewhat upright.

 

At some point, I registered that Ms. Ferguson was smoothing my hair down and talking me through the simple task of breathing which I had somehow forgotten how to do on my own. Embarrassment flooded me and I felt my cheeks turning pink again, but Ms. Ferguson was having none of it.

 

“Save your embarrassment, I have no use for it,” she deadpanned. She stretched her long limbs out and dipped her glorious body in the bubbling water, sighing as her aching muscles found relief. “This tub is adequate,” she declared.

 

Having finally found my breath again, I leaned my head back to wet my matted hair in the water, lifting it from my sweaty face.

 

“It really is such a shame that this place gets contaminated by,” she waved her hand, “ _people_ on a regular basis. This is a modern utopia,” she declared.

 

“You know, we did just renovate the steam room to include waterproof lounge furniture for prolonged use in comfort. No client is yet to use it, the renovations just finished this morning and I cleaned it thoroughly before moving onto this room,” I said hopefully.

 

Ms. Ferguson grinned and arched a dark brow. “What a delicious suggestion,” she purred.

 

 


End file.
